


The feelings of souls

by Maximonstre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Growing Up Together, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximonstre/pseuds/Maximonstre
Summary: When they were big, they would leave everything and be happy, they always promised each other. If they never found anyone kind, that would be okay too because they would be kind to each other, and Mala would show him the sea, and they would never let anybody be mean to them again.Or:In a world where one's soul can walk next to you, not much seems to change for Harry. But it does. Slowly, delicately, but it does.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 106





	The feelings of souls

As far as Harry could remember, he and Mala had always been able to exist apart from each other. When he was a baby, she always stayed near him, maybe because she had as much force as him, but as soon as he turned three or four, she began to go farther, farther, until he wasn't even able to see her anymore.

That had never worried him. He could still feel their bond thrumming inside his heart, and her distant feelings in a corner of his head. He _knew_ she would always come back to him.

The Dursleys hadn't been so accepting. As he grew older, Harry wondered whether they would have been kinder if he had had a normal daemon. Maybe they wouldn't have made him sleep in the cupboard, then, and they wouldn't have tried to grab Mala to lock her in there with him. Harry and Mala had decided when they were very, very small that she was to never go inside the house. She flew away as soon as she saw one of the Dursleys.

But, well, if Harry had had a normal daemon, he wouldn't have had the stories Mala murmured in his ear after one of her travels, of happy homes, of the circus, of wolf packs in the woods. She would sometimes go away for as long as a few weeks, and she would always be back with tales of the outside world, of the universe that was waiting for them outside of Privet Drive, away from the whispers and the side glances of the nosy neighbors, the scared eyes of the children at school, the contempt of the Dursleys.

When they were big, they would leave everything and be happy, they always promised each other. If they never found anyone kind, that would be okay too because they would be kind to each other, and Mala would show him the sea, and they would never let anybody be mean to them again.

But Hagrid came and rescued them. This would eventually become one of his favorite memories of the half-giant, him smashing the door and offering Harry a handmade birthday cake and a warm smile. Mala and Harry felt a deep relief, the first time they saw him. Because Hagrid didn't have his daemon near him.

Finally, finally they had found people like them, finally they would be free from the constant staring and the scorn and... But a few hours in their new world had been enough for them to understand that wizards and witches, no matter what blood purists believed, were not so different from Muggles. They kept their soul near their body and near their heart. When Harry asked Hagrid about his daemon, later, his cheeks reddened as he painstakingly explained that giants didn't have any.

Harry hugged Mala tightly and nodded solemnly.

* * *

Harry discovered quickly that he could not escape the stares even with his daemon safely tucked by his side, and that despite the warm glow of the windows of the castle -his _home_ -, there were still pale-haired bullies and men that killed unicorns. He decided not to hide the fact that Mala and him could be miles apart, and, to his surprise, everyone took it in stride. They expected nothing less from the boy who lived, after all.

More importantly, Harry learned the happiness of shared meals, of games of chess, the pleasure of exploring all the secret passages of a castle. He learned the feeling of souls touching each other. He could talk for hours with Ron and Hermione, curled up in the chairs near the warm fire of the common room, all the while trying not to stare in awe at their daemons as they rolled and played together. Mala had transformed into a puppy, one of her most harmless forms, Ostellio into a lion cub and Sol into a kitten. They smiled each time one of their daemons brushed against one another, secret joy bubbling in their heart.

Ron and Hermione hadn't had any friends either before coming to Hogwarts, after all.

It all began to fall apart at the end of his first year.

Mala was howling, writhing under the teeth of Quirrell's hound daemon, trying to fight with all of the skills of a street cat. Harry clenched his teeth, feeling like he was about to pass out, and he looked at his mirror-self once again, and then, and then...

The warm skin under his fingers, melting away as he clawed harder, _harder_ , the smell of burning flesh in the air, so strong he felt nauseous, the screams, oh, the _screams_. But Harry didn't loosen his grip until there was total silence, and when he glanced around, tears burning on his face, he couldn't see Quirrell's hound anymore. He heard a flap of wings, and then Mala landed on his shoulder, wrapping her wings around his face, trying desperately to protect him from that smell, that horrific smell...

Harry closed his eyes.

* * *

Mala didn't change anymore after that day, she simply remained a bird. Harry and Hermione looked for hours through the books of the library to find what she was: a pied-winged swallow. He knew some students were disappointed by her normal appearance, and that Ron had not so secretly thought Mala would be a lion. But when Harry looked at her slender body and her long pointed wings, at her almond eyes and her glossy steel-blue plumage, he thought he never wanted her any other way. She was perfect, and even though she wasn't minuscule, she was small enough to fit on his shoulder, her long tail brushing regularly against his arm.

Each time Harry watched her fly, each time he watched her graceful hoops and her agile turns, he could feel his heart both clenching and soaring. It was a strange sensation he would always associate with his daemon, from now on.

Sure, Malfoy sometimes sneered at her, with his soul draped around his shoulder hissing mockingly, but Mala always royally turned her head away. Before she settled, in an unspoken agreement, their daemons invariably transformed into the same shape when they were fighting, into dogs barking loudly or street cats clawing at each other. But the day after he got out of the infirmary, when Malfoy's daemon slithered down from his shoulders and turned into a hedgehog, Mala simply chirped loudly and flew away through a window.

Harry smiled and walked away, leaving Malfoy's comically betrayed face behind him.

* * *

At the end of second year, Sol decided to stay as a fox. No one really knew when she had stopped changing, just that it had happened somewhere between the realization his sister had disappeared and his readiness to fight a professor to save her. Anyway, Ron would never tell.

Ginny's daemon settled too. Hers became a panther, one who would always show his fangs when someone approached Ginny too fast, wrapping himself around her in a warm embrace. Even if she had become thinner, Ginny managed to stand proudly after her possession, the only sign of weakness being her fingers firmly buried in her panther's fur.

Harry decided to stay at a respectable distance from her dangerous daemon, but Mala, less wary than him, settled on the panther's head one day and nipped one of his soft ears. The panther only grumbled softly, and soon after everyone began to treat Ginny normally.

Harry could feel Malfoy's stares but he didn't really care, sure that the boy wouldn't be able to pose as a real threat anytime soon. The Slytherin tried to make fun of the size of Ron's daemon, but it was painfully obvious that he was just jealous she had settled earlier than his own.

Malfoy's soul still changed, but she rarely took the form of a bird anymore. When he played quidditch, she always tucked herself in the basket secured to the broomsticks created especially for the players who didn't have flying daemon. And when Harry and Malfoy fought, she still tried to catch Mala, her claws out, but the swallow flew too fast for her. The daemon would simply watch Mala escape through a window with her shiny eyes, her paws firmly planted on the ground.

Hermione's daemon settled during their third year. She hexed a teacher, freed a convict, and fled from a werewolf, and her daemon decided to stay as an otter. Later, she would look at Ostellio with wonder in her eyes, and bury her face in his fur, Sol yapping happily next to them. Harry only laughed, feeling his daemon making celebratory hoops, far, far away in the Forbidden Forest.

In fourth year, there was the cemetery, and Cedric's empty _emptyempty_ eyes. Harry understood what was happening as soon as Cedric's beautiful bear daemon exploded into golden dust, his heart seizing in his throat. Mala croaked wildly and with a flap of wings, she elevated herself into the sky, far enough for the rat not to see her, but she didn't fly away. Harry could feel her, hundreds of meters above his head.

What felt like hours later, as Harry was transported back to Hogwarts, gripping firmly both the cup and Cedric's body, he could only think of the horrific and pallid form that was Voldemort.

He hadn't had any daemon.

* * *

When they went back to Hogwarts after their terrible summer, Mala and Harry saw that Malfoy's soul had finally settled. Malfoy pranced around with his back very straight, arrogance oozing off of him, while a sleek white cat walked quietly next to him, observing everything around them. Harry thought she looked incredibly skittish.

But then the woman that looked like a toad with a poodle daemon took his attention, and he stopped looking at Malfoy. As the woman continued to drone on about her new post, Mala sank her claws deeper in Harry's shoulder. He frowned, looking at the new teacher more attentively, wondering what Mala saw in her that had the swallow so tense. Apart from all the pink and the fact she came from the ministry, she seemed normal enough.

However, as expected, Mala's first impression was right. Umbridge had taken a particular dislike to Harry, and he could see the disgust in her eyes when she saw him without Mala. Ron and Hermione and Harry created the DA, and maybe for the first time in his life, he felt completely in his element. He encouraged his classmates and fixed postures gently, he read and practiced constantly to have more material, and he felt warm each time one of the others managed to cast one of his spells.

In the end, it was also in the Room of Requirement that Harry found the courage to lean slowly towards Cho and her glistening eyes, to feel her soft lips... He watched her run away with her hummingbird daemon buzzing softly in her cupped hands, and for the first time since he was small, Harry wished Mala were here. He wanted her to comfort him as she had done so many time before, in that tiny cupboard... But she had decided to fly to the sea, and he knew she was two days away.

He walked back to his dorms with a heavy heart.

Harry dreamed, he dreamed he was Nagini, Voldemort's strange daemon who could live separated from him and whom no one had ever heard speak. When he woke up, he could still feel her skin around him and Voldemort's strange hisses, and he wanted to claw at his flesh, get any traces of her off of him... But it was okay, because Ron's father was safe. Harry resolutely tried to forget the fact that he had ever been a daemon himself, unable to speak, ready to do anything for... not his human, but his _master_. He felt disgusting each time he remembered, but Mala would simply chirp and pinch his ear lightly.

The DA got destroyed on a normal day.

They had managed to dodge Umbridge for weeks, now, and it seemed as if they would triumph over her, that they would show her that she didn't belong to the school, not like them, Hogwarts' children... But as Harry and Mala were walking towards the Room, a white cat suddenly turned around the corner in front of them, looking harried. Harry looked at her curiously. The cat looked familiar...

"She knows," the cat declared clearly. For a split second Harry marveled at her deep voice, and then he reeled back, Mala chirping worriedly, flapping her wings sloppily.

And sure enough, Malfoy turned the corner, trying obviously not to run.

"Osiha!" he hissed, and when Harry looked at his hateful eyes, he understood immediately that whatever generous feelings his daemon had suddenly gained towards their little group, Malfoy certainly didn't share them. He turned and immediately ran towards the Room, Mala lagging a little behind him, but it was too late, _it was too late_.

Umbridge had found them.

When he asked Mala why she had stayed behind, later, she simply answered: "I thanked her."

But before he could wonder any further about Malfoy and his strangely helpful daemon, everything happened all at once, and Harry could only watch the chaos enfold in front of him, feeling like everything was slipping through his fingers. He saw his friends bleed and Sirius disappear behind a simple veil all because of Harry and his _stupidity._

Mala dived after his godfather with a heart wrenching cry, and Harry felt his heart tighten, knowing instinctively that she was about to touch something that shouldn't be touched... But at the last second, Remus' sloth daemon caught her. She held Mala firmly even though the latter violently flapped her wings, and eventually his soul stopped fighting, keening softly. But at night Harry still wondered... There had been whispers behind the veil, after all...

* * *

During his sixth year, Dumbledore showed him orphanages and ministry employees, and Harry found nothing better to do than to follow Malfoy and his strange daemon.

Osiha.

Malfoy always looked very pale, now, and he didn't bother Harry anymore, surprisingly. _Maybe he has grown_ , Hermione said, looking a bit superior. But then, Ostellio rubbed his head reassuringly against Mala, and Harry found her endearing instead of irritating.

What aroused his curiosity even more was the cat's behavior. She was always antsy, now, always looking at everyone in their vicinity, circling behind Malfoy and noticing every exit when the pair entered a room. More, Malfoy seemed to intentionally ignore her the days she was the most nervous. Well, that was what Mala told him, anyway. She had also taken to observe them when she was at Hogwarts.

A few months later, Dumbledore told him Voldemort fractured _his daemon._ That was why Nagini didn't speak; she simply wasn't able to do so anymore. Harry couldn't even comprehend it. Voldemort had looked at her and decided to _split_ her, to destroy his own soul. Feeling his distress, Mala came back in the evening and he held her tightly in his arms the whole night, feeling her heart beating wildly against his.

As Harry fell deeper and deeper in Voldemort's past with Dumbledore's dead hand resting on his shoulder, he started to look for Malfoy even more hurriedly in the present.

In the end, Harry caught him in the bathroom from his second year. Malfoy was trembling, his daemon desperately rubbing against his knee, maybe trying to comfort him. Harry listened to him speak, blood beating against his temple. Was that the answer he had been looking for all these months? Had Malfoy really been entrusted with a mission from Voldemort? But Harry heard another sob, and he wondered what sort of assignment required Malfoy to be threatened to achieve it. He had always been obnoxiously proud of his father's wrongdoings, right?

Just as Harry hesitated, Malfoy raised his eyes. Grey met green, and suddenly the Slytherin turned around, wand in hand, and Harry took out his too, feeling cold sweat forming in the back of his neck. Malfoy countered his hex, Harry began to mouth _Levicorpus_ , but distantly he heard Malfoy shout: "Cru-"

 _What the hell._ Just as Harry threw himself on the side and Mala flapped her wings to dodge the Unforgivable - _Malfoy was going to torture him how could he have ever thought there was something, oh god_ \- a terrible yowl resonated in the air, and Malfoy let out a yelp. When Harry looked back, he saw that Osiha had bitten Malfoy hard; the boy was staring at her, multiple emotions crossing his face, and Osiha was looking right back at him, her chin and her tail high in the air. There was a beat of silence, and clearly, nobody knew what to do next.

Apart from Mala, apparently.

Under Harry's astonished eyes, she flew from her usual spot on his shoulder and landed delicately on the cat's back. Mala pecked at Osiha's ear very softly, and Harry gasped before he could help himself, feeling the new warmth course through his bond to Mala. Malfoy glanced at him quickly before turning back to their daemons, looking as shocked as him.

Mala never interacted much with other daemons.

In fact, before meeting Sol and Ostellio, she had diligently avoided touching or talking to any other soul. After the fox and the otter, she had only accepted the contact of Ginny's panther in second year and of Sirius' dog daemon. She had flown around Dumbledore's phoenix curiously, and exchanged a few thrills with her, but she had never gathered the courage to touch Fawkes directly.

Harry didn't understand why Mala had chosen to touch _Malfoy's cat_ , of all daemons. Malfoy seemed to understand the importance of the moment, though, because he didn't break the silence either, staring... nearly hungrily at Osiha and Mala.

Harry breathed, and then asked softly: "Malfoy... Malfoy, what does he want you to do?"

Malfoy looked at him, and Harry saw the crippling terror in his eyes. Without thinking, he outstretched his arm.

He took his hand.

* * *

Harry wondered if things would change, now. Malfoy hadn't said anything, in the end, and they had parted ways awkwardly, without saying goodbye. But whereas Malfoy seemed to want to avoid Harry and his gaze, Harry couldn't stop looking at him. The difference was that he didn't really care anymore about the truth; he had already found it. He just didn't know what to do about it.

Before he could make a clear decision, Dumbledore took him to the sea, and to an island, and to Death. When they landed on the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore's trembling body next to him, Harry's mind was reeling, desperately trying to remember every spell he knew for the impending battle. Mala gurgled worriedly while flying in circles high above them, and suddenly the door creaked, and then Harry couldn't move, couldn't speak, compelled by Dumbledore to remain still under his cloak.

Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore, and Harry let out a shuddery breath, wondering, wondering, _wondering_... But Malfoy talked and talked and talked, Osiha curled protectively around his legs, her fur all ruffled up. Harry wondered distantly how the boy couldn't see what Dumbledore was doing, but then he looked at his haggard eyes and thought that Malfoy didn't seem to be able to think very clearly, at the moment.

As he spoke, Malfoy seemed to grow more and more desperate. He was trembling violently, now, his wand still fixed on the headmaster, his pale face glowing in the night. Until Dumbledore declared softly:

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" Malfoy cried out. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

Before Dumbledore could answer him, there was a flap of wings, and suddenly Mala dived down towards them. Harry looked at her and wondered distantly if time had slowed. He could see each of her glossy feathers, he could distinguish the exact movements of her wings that brought her down, down, _down_...

Harry wanted to shout but his voice was caught in his throat, and delicately, gracefully, Mala landed on Malfoy's outstretched arm. She looked at the trembling boy dead in the eyes while Harry exhaled shakily, trying to understand the sensations that were overwhelming him at the contact. Betrayal that his daemon had taken this decision without him, raw fear at this newfound vulnerability, and, and... and something else, something in the way Mala was careful not to sink her claws in Malfoy's quivering arm, in the way Osiha was observing her so particularly...

Malfoy had stopped looking at Dumbledore, staring at Mala with wide eyes. Harry knew he had recognized her, but Malfoy didn't say anything, although his heavy breaths had slowed down. There was a beat of silence, and then Dumbledore said softly:

"We can protect you, Draco, we can hide you and your mother more completely than you can possibly imagine. You are not a killer..."

Malfoy kept staring at Mala. He did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand still trembling. Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction...

But suddenly there were heavy footsteps, and Death Eaters barged into the tower; Mala raised her shiny head and quickly flew back to the sky, Malfoy's cat mewing quietly after her. Harry couldn't make sense of what was happening. It all seemed to unfold so rapidly, so suddenly. Snape pushed Malfoy behind him, and Dumbledore fell, he _fell_ , and his phoenix exploded into golden dust, and next thing he knew, Harry was running down the tower, his wand in his hand, incommensurable fury in his heart.

* * *

There was no seventh year.

Harry and Ron and Hermione ran and ran and ran, sent on a wild goose chase alone, without having finished their education. Hermione and Ron had insisted to go with him, but at times Harry looked at them and wondered if he had made the right decision. However thinking otherwise was unbearable, so he always squashed these thoughts quickly and tried to think of where the next Horcrux was hidden. He could feel Mala wander through the Forest of Dean hundreds of meters from them, standing guard quietly. Sometimes, Harry would let his mind wander right before falling asleep, and he would think of the sensation of his daemon touching... But Harry would toss and turn, trying to forget what had happened. 

They only showered when they could, washed their clothes with difficulty, tried not to constantly think of where they would find their next meal, and it shouldn't have come as big as a surprise when Ron got up and left in the dead of the night. Harry went back into the tent to find Hermione sobbing, her hands pressed desperately against her face. He took her in his arms and Mala covered Ostellio with her wings, and the two daemons keened lowly together.

But in the end, Ron and Sol loved them, and they came back. Even if Hermione kept glaring furiously at him, Harry felt incredibly joyful with his two friends by his side. He watched, smiling, as Sol chased Mala playfully, Ostellio staring at them a bit longingly, but trying to stay loyal to Hermione.

But Harry was stupid, so incredibly _stupid_ , and he got them captured by Snatchers. Mala was flying above them in circles, clearly wondering what to do, and Harry tried not to look at her. Either way his cheeks were so inflated from Hermione' s spell that he couldn't see very well. When they all disappeared from the clearing without Mala, Harry could only feel relief from the fact that she, at least, was safe.

Suddenly they were standing in a luxurious living room, and he heard Narcissa Malfoy declare coldly:

"They say they've got Potter. Draco, come here."

Harry felt his heart lurching. He didn't dare look at Malfoy directly in the eyes, and he didn't utter a word because he knew it would be instantly recognizable. However he couldn't help but stare at Osiha, who looked more skittish and skinnier than ever. For some reason, he felt slightly safer, looking at her. Which was absurd, what with all the Death Eaters in the room and the fact that Malfoy didn't seem to listen too often to his own daemon. Still, Osiha stared back. Harry could feel his heart beating wildly, and he wondered if anyone else in the room could hear it.

Malfoy seemed as scared of looking at him than Harry was to look at him. He remained vague, didn't confirm anything, his expression full of fear. But all the while his daemon didn't stop watching him, and when they were brought to the cave, when Hermione and Ostellio began to _scream_ , Harry, unable to seek the comfort of his own daemon like Ron did, thought of Osiha's pale eyes.

When Dobby came to rescue them, Harry felt new determination course through his veins. He had gotten them in this mess, but they were going to _make it through,_ Ron and Hermione and Dean and Luna. When Dobby apparated him, Malfoy's warm wand pulsating in his hand, the last thing Harry saw was Bellatrix throwing her silver knife, the Malfoy standing cold and pale near the fireplace.

* * *

Of course they were brought back to Hogwarts, because it was their home, to Harry and Voldemort, and to all of the children that ever had the wonder to look at its high towers and its scintillating windows. Mala had taken refuge inside his shirt, near his heart, after having flown for hours to keep track of where the dragon was bringing them. When Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped into the Room of Requirement, a shower of praise and applause welcoming them, he felt _hope_ , and it all seemed worth it.

After everyone had run out of the Room, well determined to fight and to take back their home, Harry took a deep breath, stared at Ron and Hermione, Mala settling on Sol's back, and they stepped into the Room.

They wandered slowly through the high walls formed by thousands of forgotten objects, a bit taken by the silent, nearly sacred atmosphere of the Room. Harry shook himself. They had to be quick, Voldemort was coming... He walked without stopping past the Vanishing Cabinet that Malfoy had mended the past year, Mala flying above them, looking for the diadem too.

His breath was loud in his ears, and then his very soul seemed to shiver: there it was, the old cupboard in which he had hidden his old potion book, and on top of it, the stone warlock wearing a dusty wig and an ancient, discolored tiara.

He stretched out his hand, beginning to walk faster, when suddenly a voice resonated through the air:

"Hold it, Potter."

When Harry turned, he saw Crabbe and Goyle pointing their wands at him, and, standing proudly in front of them, Draco Malfoy. Osiha was nowhere to be seen; Harry guessed she must be looking for them in a neighboring alley, never wandering too far from Malfoy...

"That's my wand you're holding, Potter."

"Not anymore," answered Harry, tightening his hold on the hawthorn wand. "Who lent you theirs?"

"My mother."

Harry laughed, deliberating quickly. He couldn't hear Ron or Hermione. He got Crabbe talking, all the while asking Mala silently to warn his friends... But then he felt something warm from her end, incredibly warm; his eyes widened, he stared at Malfoy and Malfoy stared back, and each one could see their expression on the other's face.

Osiha and Mala had found each other.

Before he could say anything, he heard Ron's voice, and then the red hair came into view, Sol nipping at his heels. All of a sudden Crabbe and Goyle were firing spells, and the tense atmosphere exploded into total chaos. Harry began to run towards the diadem but Crabbe screamed something, and then the warlock crumbled into itself, the diadem falling behind it, among thousands of other objects. He kept running towards Hermione and Ostellio, hearing Malfoy shout desperately: "Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" while Crabbe shot death with his wand, miraculously missing them...

Mala and Osiha were still nowhere to be seen, but Harry was sure Malfoy could feel the tug Ron and Hermione described for him, so long ago... Ron ducked out of sight to avoid Crabbe's spells, the latter following him, and Hermione hit Goyle with a stunning spell while Malfoy stepped aside quickly, looking very pale. But before Harry and Hermione could try to find the diadem, a roaring, billowing noise warned them that something had gone terribly _wrong_.

Without hesitation, they all began to run from the monstrous fire that Crabbe had created. Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe quickly escaped from Harry's sight, having turned into another alley; Ron, Hermione and Harry had to stop running when they noticed that the flames had gained the other end of the passage they were in, panting desperately. Harry glanced down and was surprised to see that Osiha was with them, with Mala flying slightly above her. They must have joined them while they were running. That had to mean that Malfoy was still alive, and not so far away...

But there was no time to think, none at all. He took two heavy-looking broomsticks from a neighboring pile and threw one at Ron. Hermione climbed behind him, and Sol and Ostellio squeezed themselves into the little basket fixed to it. Harry looked at Osiha, and she stared back, but after an admonishing flap of wings from Mala she jumped gracefully into Harry's own basket.

With hard kicks to the ground, they soared into the air, but while Ron and Hermione were desperately heading towards the door, Harry was glancing anxiously around him, Mala flying in circles, skimming the fire, looking for... And then he finally heard the faint shouts.

He flew as fast as he could towards the source of the noise, and suddenly there he was; Malfoy, holding an unconscious Goyle on top of a little mountain of junk that was slowly being devoured by the raging fire.

Malfoy's face was turned towards Harry, he raised his hand desperately, and Harry dived down without a second thought. He gritted his teeth, his arms trembling; they were too heavy... But then Ron miraculously swooped in, Hermione got Goyle on their broom, Malfoy climbed behind Harry, and they all flew towards the exit. Harry swooped down to catch the diadem flung into the air by the fire, Malfoy all the while screaming in his ears, holding him so tightly it hurt. They passed the door full speed and crashed against the wall, and they all laid down for a few seconds, their faces scorched, gasping, coughing and retching.

But there was a battle to be fought, and a snake to be killed, and Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly walked away, leaving Malfoy and Goyle behind. Mala came to Harry a bit later, and when he looked at her interrogatively, she flapped her wings a bit bashfully. She simply said: "She thanked me."

* * *

Harry walked to his death, and his last thought was that he would have wanted Mala to be with him, in the end. But as soon as she had realized what he wanted to do, she had made a scream so full of excruciating pain that Harry had trembled, and she had flown towards the sky, so high that he hadn't been able to see her anymore. Harry understood why. Mala knew Harry perfectly. She knew that if she protested, if she asked him whether he loved them more than her, whether he was willing to abandon her, he would yield. So she didn't utter a single word, and left first.

Harry had stayed incredibly calm on his way to the clearing, but as he watched Voldemort raise his wand, he thought that even if he had had to watch Mala burst into gold, he would have wanted to see her one more time, her glossy feathers, her small claws... But Mala was far away, alone... Nobody would know she had disappeared from this world...

Harry died.

And he went back.

In the very end, when he fired his spell at Voldemort, he saw something dive towards him, and his heart _sang_. Mala was the first to reach him when Voldemort fell to the ground, his soul, his daemon...

And then Ron and Hermione, and Ginny and Neville and Luna, and Molly and George and Bill and McGonagall and Kingsley and...

Harry closed his eyes and smiled, the heart of his daemon beating wildly against his.

* * *

Harry testified for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy at their trial, a bit later in the Summer. As he stood behind the bar, Mala a reassuring weight on his shoulder, he couldn't help but glance towards Malfoy and Osiha. Malfoy was looking down at his hands, but, true to herself, Osiha was staring right back at him.

In the end, they were left free of charges, to Harry's relief.

While Ron and Hermione left for Australia, Harry decided to complete dusting up 12 Grimmauld Place. Ron and him had decided not to come back for seventh year, Harry to become an auror, Ron to help George with the shop. Or, well, that was what he had told his friends, but Harry still wasn't sure he really wanted to become an auror so soon after the war. He tried to imagine what Sirius would say. What had his godfather done directly after school, anyway? Yet another question that Harry should have asked years ago, when Sirius could have answered him...

A few weeks passed, and strangely, Mala stayed with him. She had often left by herself, even during their chase for Horcruxes, but now it almost seemed like she was waiting for something. Harry didn't ask her about it. If it was important, she would tell him.

Harry simply kept sorting all the mysterious and more prosaic objects the Blacks had accumulated through the decades. He stared for a long time at a sepia-colored photo depicting Sirius and James arm in arm, smiling proudly at the camera, a pyramid in the background. So his father and Sirius had travelled together... Harry had never left England; he had been left behind the rare times the Dursleys dared to travel further than a hundred of kilometers away from Privet Drive. Harry wondered if he would like the desert, or if he would prefer the woods, in the end...

Harry kept receiving letters from Ron and Hermione in Australia after they found her parents, and he spent more and more time imagining the landscape his friends were seeing, the mysterious creatures they were meeting in the bush. Harry began to look up wizards and witches' means of travelling thousands of kilometers, Mala chirping lightly on his shoulder about the sea and the mountains.

* * *

Near the end of August, as Harry was walking slowly towards Grimmauld Place, enjoying the last rays of sunshine amid the Muggles, he heard footsteps heading rapidly towards him. He stiffened and held his holly wand a bit tighter in his pocket, turning in an inconspicuous alley in the hope of not making a rumpus.

He turned around suddenly, his eyes narrowed, only to see... Malfoy. Harry felt his head spin. He had never imagined he would ever tumble upon Malfoy wearing Muggle clothes, but here they were. Had he been thrown into another dimension?

Malfoy seemed surprised at his sudden move, clearly not having expected Harry to notice him. In the beat of silence that followed, Mala flew down from the rooftops to Harry's shoulder, deciding that no one would see her come from so far away in this empty street. Osiha stared at her immediately, stirring slightly her whiskers, and Harry felt a strange surge of affection towards the cat. To fill the silence, he mumbled:

"Hum... Hello, Malfoy."

Eloquent.

"Potter," said Malfoy, obviously relieved Harry had decided to speak. "I wanted to thank you."

What the hell. Harry really wanted to pinch his skin. Malfoy was standing in front of him, without the Slytherin tie Harry had detested so much when he was a kid, without the pallor he had sported when Voldemort had lived in his manor.

Without Hogwarts around them.

Harry felt... wrong footed. He was intensely aware of Mala's weight on his shoulder, Mala who had landed on Malfoy's arm once, what seemed like an eternity ago...

"There's no need," Harry mumbled. He didn't know what he had expected from Malfoy, but certainly not _this_. Whatever this was.

Before they could go on even more awkwardly, he felt something against his shin. He lowered his eyes, registering distantly Malfoy's sharp intake of air. Osiha was rubbing her head against him.

Harry inhaled briskly when he noticed that he had stopped breathing. For a moment, he desperately wished for the barrier of his jeans to disappear, to feel Osiha's fur directly on his skin... As if she could guess what Harry was thinking, Osiha looked at him directly in the eyes, looking terribly smug, and then she strolled back leisurely to Malfoy's side.

Harry and Malfoy stared at each other, a bit breathless, but were interrupted by Mala's chirpy gurgles as she flew to Osiha, landing delicately on her back and whispering lowly in her ear. Harry glanced back at Malfoy a bit helplessly. He was looking at their daemons, the same hungry expression on his face that he bore in that bathroom, years ago.

And Harry found that he didn't want to ignore this, to spend months, again, only looking at Malfoy from afar, wondering if he should have asked more questions. Harry wanted... _wanted_... Maybe Malfoy wasn't the only one who was hungry.

The words came tumbling out of his mouth, but once he had pronounced them, he didn't want to take them back:

"Do you want to come get coffee?"

Malfoy looked up sharply and examined Harry for a few seconds, and then smiled slowly. Harry had never seen his face do that. Well, not towards him, at least. It suited him, made his silver eyes warmer.

When Harry began to walk towards Grimmauld Place, Malfoy followed suit, and then Osiha, and then Mala.

A few steps later, Harry took Malfoy's hand, and when Malfoy tightened his hold, he couldn't help but smile. He wondered what Malfoy thought about Egypt.

**Author's Note:**

> Sparrows are excellent flyers, they're fast and agile.
> 
> So... yeah, maybe I'll expand this universe, I don't know, we'll see...
> 
> This is the first time I write drarry, even if they're not really together yet, I hope you liked it.  
> Please tell me what you think :)


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